We rate 9 Twin Cities fast-food fish sandwiches — just in time for Lent

Once again, Burger Friday is taking a deep dive into the fast-food version of the fish fry: the fish sandwich. Here’s an update of a 2018 worst-to-best rundown on nine iterations; all are available in the Twin Cites metro area. The one to beat? It’s pictured, above, from My Burger.

Sure, it’s an improvement over DQ’s previous iteration (there was nowhere to go but up). And yet, I can’t. The main event is a giant, Mrs. Paul’s-like slab (billed as “wild-caught Alaskan pollock,” a white, flaky, mildly flavored fish) that hangs over the bun’s edges. It’s hot, but the over-breaded coating doesn’t get anywhere near “crisp,” and the only flavor that made itself known was “past its prime.” The bun, while toasted, was deadly dull. Lettuce was browned and wilted. On a positive note, the all-important tartar sauce, served in sloppy abundance, faintly resembles the real deal, a rarity in fast-food fish sandwich-land. Still, skip it. $4.20, 410 calories

It’s another massive, fish stick-like slab that cantilevers itself out of the bun’s boundaries. The outer coating sported a decent crunch – certainly enough to live up to its “Crispy Fish Sandwich” name -- but the Alaskan pollock had a thoroughly, vexingly, school cafeteria-like flavorlessness. (OK, if I had to zero in on a single flavor attribute, I’d go with fried). Shredded iceberg and a double-swipe of a pallid, so-called "tartar” sauce (both the top and bottom bun get the treatment) are the sole garnishes. The sesame-studded bun was toasted but lingering near room temperature. In short: filling but forgettable. Its best quality is the price. Two for $5, 570 calories each

Not bad. Not great, either. It certainly looked promising, with a rectangle of Alaskan pollock that’s lightly breaded and fried to a nicely browned, crisped-up crunch; demerits for the slightly off-putting fishy flavor (insert “Big Fishy” for the sandwich’s “Big Fish” name). Full marks for the bun, which was soft, warm, toasted and tasty. Garnishes consist of a condiment that could have been taken for mayonnaise or the world’s most tepid tartar sauce, lifeless (and nearly colorless) shredded iceberg lettuce and three of the most basic pickles I’ve encountered in ages; why are fast-food pickles so forgettable? $4.29 sandwich (or two for $6), 510 calories

A previous excursion into Filet-O-Fish waters left me underwhelmed, a major disappointment for a McD’s staple that I’d loved as a kid. This time around, it was as if Mayor McCheese himself had prepared my order. The pollock actually tasted as if it had originated from a creature of the sea -- yet avoided that unpleasantly fast-food fishy curse – and it was fried so that the coating demonstrated an appealing crunch, slight but distinct. McDonald’s wisely slips a slice of American cheese between the fish and the bottom bun, and it’s a flavor that tends to dominate, although not disagreeably. The bun? Soft and warm and, let’s face it, somewhat vacuous. The saddest tartar sauce, ever. Come on, McDonald’s, you’re a bazillion-dollar global behemoth; you can afford to perk up your garnishes. $4.19 (or two for $5), 410 calories

Greasy, yes (the survey’s biggest gutbomb, by a mile), but this snack-scaled sandwich could also be filed under G for guilty pleasure. The fish sandwich as slider is genius move, because its four-bite scale is pretty much all that anyone should be consuming, deep-fried-wise. The lightly breaded pollock was crispy on the outside, and tender, flaky and piping hot on the inside. The bun is the standard-issue, no-frills White Castle bun. Like McDonald’s, there’s American cheese to boost texture and flavor quotients. A mistake is serving tartar sauce in a package, displaying the ingredients for the world to see. Not that anyone should expect a Whole Foods-level of integrity at White Castle, but when the fourth ingredient on the label (after soybean oil, water and sweet pickle relish) is “high fructose corn syrup,” you have to wonder what’s in the rest of the food. $1.69, 340 calories

Here’s what happens when a fast-food fish sandwich is actually cooked to order: after a three-minute wait, the (unidentified, but flaky and white) fish in this “beer-battered fish sandwich” (the beer is credited to Seattle’s Redhook Ale Brewery) was so hot that, when I lifted the top bun, steam was rising from the fish. So far, so good, right? It’s a bit of a stretch to call the battered coating “tempura-like,” but there’s a slight (and welcome) resemblance. The sesame seed-studded bun was toasted and warm, an honest-to-goodness lettuce leaf made an appearance and the (too-sweet) tartar sauce was packed with chopped pickles. What’s not to like? $3.79, 620 calories

This one takes home the Best Presentation award. The generous portion of North Atlantic cod in no way resembles a factory-pressed patty, and had a pleasing crunchy-outside/tender-inside balance. The kitchen's shredder goes into overdrive with this one, making quick work of (cool, juicy) iceberg lettuce and (rich) Cheddar cheese, piling on plenty of both. It’s tough to determine whether the bun was swiped with mayonnaise or tartar sauce (if it’s the latter, that’s not a good sign), and the other downside is with the (lightly toasted, with actual butter, hurrah) hoagie-style bun; it’s too big, too bready. A worthy effort. $5.39, 600 calories

More cod, this time from the Pacific, a generous portion in a lightly coated (and nicely crunchy) panko breading. The soft, toasted bun is a major plus. Ditto the lettuce, big leaves of notably fresh iceberg. Three cheers for the tartar sauce, which is packed with fragrant dill. Even the pickles are a cut above. Everyone should definitely spring (50 cents) for cheese. $4.31, 450 calories

Still the best fast-food fish sandwich in town. The goodness starts with a well-made bun, one that gets the buttered-and-toasted treatment. The type of fish isn’t specified, but it’s a substantial portion that’s snowy-white and flaky on the inside, surrounded by a crisp, notably crunchy coating (the contrast between interior and exterior is first-rate), landing My Burger's effort in primo fish sandwich territory. Garnishes are straightforward, just chopped iceberg lettuce, and plenty of it, along with a (so-so, it must be said) tartar sauce. Again, I’d splurge (50 cents) and add cheese. As for the price, it’s higher than the others because it includes a heaping handful of (pretty great) French fries. The homegrown chain is opening its sixth Twin Cities location in Minnetonka (10997 Red Circle Drive) on Monday $7.45 (buy it on Friday during Lent for $6.45), approximately 500 calories

Talk to me: Do you have a favorite fish sandwich? Share the details at rick.nelson@startribune.com. Burger Friday will return next week.